


The truth of you

by mirawohoo (metawohoo)



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, With A Twist, badfic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2016-06-05
Packaged: 2018-07-10 15:30:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6991273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/metawohoo/pseuds/mirawohoo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marinette gets her soul mark.<br/>Adrien does not.</p><p>(Buckle up, this is going to be a long plot-centric fic.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have two other fanfictions I should be working on but this idea would not leave me alone.  
> Have a first chapter. I promise nothing.

#### Q: Will any touch from my soulmate make my mark appear?

A: No. The deciding factor for a mark to appear has yet to be determined. Many theories have been discussed, many studies have been published on the topic, yet the event is so personal that pinpointing what exact set of circumstances leads to the marking remains impossible.

The most prevalent theory, both among scholars and marked soulmates, is that the marks require not only compatibility and physical contact but also a deeper understanding of one's partner nature (in other words: for one of the parties to see their match for who they really are). To quote a famous poet: _'He will see the truth of you and write it down with his fingertips'_.

\-- The ultimate soulmate FAQ, amessoeurs.co.fr

 

###

 

"It is not as much of a disaster as it could have been," Marinette admitted when 'Ladybug' soared over the 'city' and 'rescued' a 'terrified young woman' from 'Dark Cupid'.

And by that she meant 'Chloé in a surprisingly accurate costume soared over the stage and rescued Nathanaël from Kim'.

Kim had volunteered for his own role, as he thought his Akumaized self was 'badass'. Alix had flat out refused to play the damsel in distress ("my _brother_ will be watching this," she had told them. " _Kim_ will be watching this. No. Way."), forcing Nathanaël to fill the kidnapped reporter role in order to save the play. As for Chloé… You couldn't organize a stage play on the adventures of Ladybug and Chat Noir and expect her _not_ to want to play Ladybug. Not if you wanted the arguing to stop and the rehearsals to start.

Thankfully, the blonde was behaving. It had taken a little nudge in the form of a visit from the _real_ Ladybug, who had explained in no uncertain terms how much the play meant to her. Somehow, Marinette suspected that the 'think of the abandoned kittens' argument would not had worked as well.

Talking about kittens, Sabrina made for a very convincing Chat Noir.

"You mean 'it is going very, very well'," Alya commented.

"Well," Marinette said, pushing the drapes by an inch so she could peek at the large audience they had gathered, "people are not booing us and no one has been Akumatized yet. That's good, I suppose. But Mylène's dad is stuck in traffic with the drinks for the bar which should have been there _before_ everyone arrived. Also, we underestimated how many people would show up," she added, counting the spectators standing behind the last row of chairs. "I'm sure we could have added more seats."

"Relax," her best friend replied, pulling her away from the drapes. "No one is complaining and we _do_ have drinks. No one will die of thirst because we are short ten bottles of soda."

"But if we end up with _fifty-two_ bottles of soda we cannot sell to the spectators, then it will cut into our earnings."

"I'm sure mister Haprèle will be here soon," Alya promised with the utmost faith. "Just focus on what is going great!"

Marinette took a deep breath.

She was so sure she had forgotten something, or failed something, or broken something. Organizing a charity event was a lot more work than she had envisioned when the rest of the class had promoted her to 'manager'. She was exhausted. She had been running around like a headless chicken for weeks.

Then again, her workload would not have been nearly as heavy if she had not insisted on helping with the costumes. Or, now that she thought about it, if she had not been a superhero slash class president slash budding fashion designer slash schoolgirl with homework. Maybe she had bitten off more than she could chew.

But it was for Adrien. Well, for the pet shelter Adrien volunteered at. They needed funds not to close doors, so the young model had tried to come up with ideas to help them. Of course, the Agreste had donated a generous amount of money, but Adrien's goal had been to get the shelter and its furry residents more attention. He wanted the cats to find nice families, which meant showing the cats to as many people as humanly possible.

He had prompted Nino for ideas.

Nino had prompted Alya for ideas.

Alya had prompted everyone else for ideas.

Six weeks down the line, they were reenacting the most epic of Ladybug and Chat Noir's battles for an audience of parents, teachers and Adrien's fan club.

Adrien made for a very convincing Darkblade, though his fangirls were probably disappointed by his full helmet. Rose, Nathanaël and Alix had shared Pharaoh's role, as switching actors was much easier than changing heads and costumes. Kim was playing himself (and overdoing it, because Alix was watching).

People seemed to like it. As much as you could like a play invented by teenagers, written by a journalist and 'improved' by a musician. Maybe even a little more.

Alya was right. It was going well.

 

###

 

"Thank you for coming, mister Kubdel," Adrien said with his best smile and warmest tone. "I hope you enjoyed the show."

As happy and thankful as the teenager was for the unexpected number of spectators and the donations they had brought with them, he had to admit he was functioning on autopilot and had been for twenty handshakes at least. Darkblade only had one scene but it involved a duel against 'Chat Noir' (when had Sabrina learned to use a staff so well, anyway?) as well as lots of pacing in the heaviest costume since Gabriel's 2014 winter collection. After that, Adrien had helped with the props for the rest of the play. His legs hurt. His back hurt. He was exhausted.

At least, he was in better shape than Marinette, who looked about to pass out. She soldiered through it, however, walking from spectator to spectator to shake hands and chat. Despite her tiredness, she was still able to grin. More importantly, she was still able to be underhanded and conniving: she was doing all of that while holding kittens. She had started out with four. She was now carrying three, but none of them were from the original batch. People were steadily leaving with freshly acquired furry best friends.

She was amazing.

Truth to be said, she was doing such a good job that Adrien allowed himself a break.

His _father_ had come. Knowing Gabriel, it was already hard to believe that he had stayed until the end of the show. Seeing him still present fifteen minutes after its end was a miracle. There was no way Adrien would not steal a few precious minutes of family time.

The boy crossed the cafeteria, slipping between groups of people and trying to avoid being noticed until he arrived at his father's side.

Gabriel was discussing stock options with Nathalie. They both had their tablets out.

"Interesting play," the designer commented when his son joined him. "I especially liked Hawk Moth's defeat. It had… creative flair."

"Thank… you," Adrien replied.

It had to be sarcasm, he knew that. The 'battle against Hawk Moth' scene was dramatic, full of action and butterfly-shaped confetti, but it had not been written by Alya. Nino had contributed (Nino was now single again). If there was one thing to be said about that scene, it was that it left an impression. No one, so far, had managed to describe exactly what kind of impression.

"As far as your performance was concerned, excellent fencing technique," his father continued. "Though I am wondering… What kind of training does that classmate of yours have? The redhead? Even if the whole duel was choreographed, the pacing was quick."

"I think she practiced the staff thing a lot. She cosplays and Sabrina… She'd want to be as good as it as possible."

That was what Adrien suspected, anyway. Chloé liked her to roleplay Chat Noir and Sabrina always tried her hardest to please her best friend.

"I see," his father replied. "Well. I'm afraid I cannot stay. Meeting with new investors, it can't wait. I'll see you at home."

"Of course. Thank you _so much_ for coming, Father."

"It was a pleasure," Gabriel commented, having already turned away with his tablet tucked under his arm. "Oh. Introduce Nathalie to your costume designers. I hear we have room for interns this summer."

Nathalie barely noded, used as she was to removing herself from their conversations even when she was standing within arm's reach.

"I will," Adrien promised. "Have a nice evening, Fa..."

The teenager faltered: he had just noticed that Nino was waving at him from afar, trying to catch his attention. He looked frantic. As soon as they locked eyes, he gestured for Adrien to join him, mouthing what looked like 'now, now, now!'.

"... ther," Adrien finished.

He waited for Gabriel to walk away then hurried to Nino. He could feel his father's eyes on him.

"What's wrong?" the model asked, anxious.

Nino did not answer. He grabbed Adrien's hands instead, turning look at his palms, then bending them from one side to another. He spread his fingers. He pushed his sleeves up to look at his wrists.

"Crap," he finally muttered. "Crap, crap, crap."

Adrien blinked, confused.

"Uh, Nino, what's going on?"

"Nothing. Crap. Nothing."

Gabriel, who seemed to have reconsidered leaving, quietly joined them. He grabbed his son's right hand and inspected it, then gave Nino a side-look.

"Did you by any chance get your soul mark, young man?" he asked, eyebrows raised.

Adrien realized what this was all about. He blushed and snatched his hand back to check for the small symbol his soulmate's touch would have left, if they had met. There was nothing to see.

Nino stared at Gabriel like a deer caught in headlights.

"W-what? No! No, I didn't!"

Gabriel squinted. He turned to his son without a word but, to someone who knew him, he looked concerned. Then again, he probably had reason to be: Nino had been checking for a soul mark, which meant someone they knew had a mark and no idea who idea who it was linked to. In normal circumstances, when that issue presented itself, you looked for the matching mark on your boyfriend or girlfriend. Adrien did not have a girlfriend, but his father did not know that.

"Did someone get their mark?" the model asked.

His best friend winced.

"Yes. No. Yes. Marinette did. She doesn't know who her soulmate is, though. She did not notice the mark, it's…. It's complicated. Anyway I was just checking if… but it isn't you."

Adrien paled.

"Oh. Oh," he murmured. "Need my help looking?"

He knew it happened, every now and then. As a model, he had been afraid of seeing it happen to him. You found yourself in a crowded space, shaking hands, brushing against people, not paying close attention to what was going on… and it would happen. Your fingers would brush against your soulmate's skin and the mark would appear, but you would not realize that, not until much later. And sometimes - sometimes - you would never find that person again.

He knew that full well because he lived with someone in that situation.

"Boys!" his father snapped, rubbing the black butterfly mark on the side of his right hand. "I'd advise you _not_ to get involved, not unless your friend _asked_ for your help. Soul marks are a private matter. Do not meddle."

The two teenagers jumped, spine stiffening. They swallowed. They nodded.

"Also," Gabriel continued with a roll of the eyes, "while I know they cause endless amazement, soul marks are not to be examined, probed and poked. You do not just grab someone's hand to get a closer look."

"Didn't you just do that with Adrien?" Nino blurted out.

That got him a scathing glare. He took a step back.

"Just _behave_ ," Gabriel told his son. He looked at his watch and sighed. "And _now_ I am late. I have to go."

The two boys watched him leave, then Adrien turned to his friend.

"Marinette?"

 

###

 

#### Q: What will my soul mark look like?

A: As a rule of thumb, a soul mark looks like a small tattoo (no larger than a fingertip) representing a simple symbol. It is more common for them to only have one or two colors, though cases of larger palettes or gradients have been documented.

As for the symbol itself, it will represent something that connects you to your soulmate, that defines an important part of your relationship. Its exact meaning might not always be evident, not even to the wearer of the mark, but the marked always come to understand it.

The soulmates we questioned about this often replied 'we did not get it at first but, in retrospect, it makes so much sense'.

\-- The ultimate soulmate FAQ, amessoeurs.co.fr

 

###

 

"What's that on your hand?" Nino had wondered after they had been down carrying the soda packs from mister Haprèle's van to the cafeteria, as Marinette sat down to take a breath and wiped her forehead.

Never had words so simple caused more of a panic. Not immediately, of course. Marinette's first reaction, upon spotting the red stain on her hand, had been to rub it away. She had moved painted props all day. You got dirty.

When rubbing had failed, she had licked a finger and tried to wash the stain away.

It had not worked either, so the young girl had frowned and taken a closer look at the loopy symbol on the side of her right hand. At that point, she had shrieked.

Thirty minutes later, everyone - _everyone_ \- knew her soul mark had appeared. Even Rose's mostly deaf grandma had congratulated her. EVERYONE.

Thankfully, she had found gloves before 'everyone' could see what the mark was. As for those who _had_ seen it, they had not necessarily understood what it was. The guesses so far had been "It's a 'eight', right?" from Nino, a "I think it's a ribbon" from Rose and "it looks more like a Moebius strip" from Max. Chloé had taken a long look and scoffed, leaning closer to Sabrina to comment about how lame it was to get a piece of red string as a soul mark (this as she was still wearing her Ladybug costume and mask). Alya had stared at the mark and said nothing, which likely meant she knew exactly what she had been looking at and what it meant.

Marinette was sick in the pit of her stomach.

She grinned through endless well-meaning remarks ("You shouldn't be embarrassed!", "Come on, take the gloves off!", "I'm sure you'll find your soulmate soon!", "You are so lucky!") and the odd attempt at pulling her gloves away.

At this time of the day, she had been meant to help in the cafeteria. Alya had volunteered to take her place so Marinette could tend to the kittens with the shelter's employees instead.

In normal circumstances, she would have been looking for her soulmate and waving her hand for everyone to see. Not everyone was blessed with a soul mark. You did not waste your shot at finding the love of your life. In normal circumstances, the marking was a happy event. In normal circumstances, you did not end up filled by unholy terror.

However, when the symbol that 'defined your relationship' was the mask you wore as a superhero, silly thoughts about true love flew right out the window as reality crashed in.

Someone had figured out who she was.

Someone had seen 'the truth of her'. And she had no idea who.

"Should I go and search?" she asked Tikki as she cleaned the side of the classroom where the playpens had been. "I know I _have_ to find them, but asking around will just attract attention and that mark could as well spell out 'I am Ladybug'."

The sound of the vacuum cleaner conveniently covered her voice.

"I think you are right to lay low," Tikki replied from her hiding place under Marinette's jacket. "If your soulmate has recognized you, I'm sure he will understand that showing his mark to people is not safe. We should wait for him to reach out in private."

Marinette nodded but did not feel any better. She had never revealed her identity to anyone, not even to _Chat_ , and now some stranger was wandering around with a red domino mask on their skin.

In normal circumstances, getting your soul mark had you daydreaming about romance and happiness. All the teenager could think about was disaster. Someone out there could reveal her identity at any moment, even if they did not mean to. Someone out there wore her symbol on their skin (the domino mask was plain red with no spots, but it was still recognizable enough, wasn't it?). What if Hawk Moth found out about it? What if he captured her soulmate to use them as leverage?

One by one, the shelter employees left, carrying crates and boxes of food. One of them commented on Marinette's marking, which did not help with her frayed nerves. She sighed in relief when the door closed on the last of them.

She jumped out of her skin when it opened again ten seconds later, right as Tikki was about to emerge from under her jacket.

It was Adrien.

"So that's where you are!" he exclaimed, slipping in and closing the door behind him. He pointed at the vacuum cleaner. "Can I help?"

For a second - just a second - Marinette _hoped_.

How often had she imagined her soulmate could be Adrien? She had pictured a reveal, with Ladybug's mask coming down - maybe after saving his life, maybe after a daring visit to his home - and that moment of realization, that instant where the two of them would understand each other. One of them would have reached for the other's hand, caressed their skin and left a long awaited mark with their fingertips. Then the other would have returned it.

She had imagined it would be the lucky charm she had given him.

It would have made so much sense.

But her soulmate was not Adrien. She could see the side of his right hand just fine. It was blank.

 _You have a handshake mark,_ she reminded herself. _Handshakes always mark both soulmates at once._

In some cases, the marking touch would not be returned immediately. One of the parties would have the mark, the other had to wait for a touch from their partner, fingertips against naked skin. But a mark next to the wrist on the right hand always came from a handshake. It was the most common location, so Marinette knew how rare it was for that kind of mark to be one-sided.

She could not remember anyone wearing arm warmers nor fingerless gloves.

"I-I was just about to mop the floor," she stuttered. "I'll be fine."

"I'll help!" Adrien exclaimed, looking around.

He located the bucket and mop easily enough and went to pick them up, then stared at them with growing confusion and unease. The unease turned to nervousness.

"So do I add soap or something?"

Marinette's eyes went wide.

"Have you ever used a mop before?"

He was so very, very rich.

"I. Uh. I've _seen_ one being used? But I can learn! I _should_ learn."

"I'll show you," she offered, jumping at the opportunity not to talk about the mark.

Ten minutes later, she discovered that it was indeed possible to make a floor dirtier by cleaning it. Adrien was growing sulkier by the second.

"I-I can finish," Marinette suggested, trying to sound tactful.

For a brief moment, her classmate looked dejected. He hid that behind a cheerful smile.

"No, no, no! I will! I mean, I can only get better, right?"

She smiled back.

"I suppose so. I'll take the posters off."

They worked in companionable silence for a few minutes. Well, near silence: Adrien kept taking annoyed breaths and mumbled to himself. The floor still looked like it had gone through a few floods and the odd tsunami.

Marinette was removing the last 'Adopt me' poster from the window when she felt her Adrien's eyes on her. She turned and caught him watching her gloved hand. She hid it behind her back.

"I'm sorry," Adrien said. "I shouldn't be staring."

"It's okay," she mumbled. "Everyone is curious."

Everyone was not the boy she had hoped would be her soulmate, however. She would have preferred for him not to mention it at all. She braced for questions on the mark, its shape, its meaning and the why she was not turning the world upside down trying to find the person it went with.

"Are you okay?" Adrien asked.

Marinette opened and closed her mouth.

He waited.

"Y-y-yeah!" she choked out. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Adrien looked away with a sad smile. He rocked back on his heels, uneasy.

"I just wanted to make sure."

"I'm okay," she murmured. "Thank you."

"Good. Good," he repeated, breathing out in relief.

"Thanks for not asking."

Adrien scratched the back of his neck.

"You don't have to thank me."

"I kind of _want_ to."

"No, but you really don't have to thank me. My father preemptively scolded me so I would not bug you. If he had not, I would probably be an idiot about this."

"Your fa…" - Marinette remembered the black butterfly mark on the side of Gabriel Agreste's hand, the one she had seen on dozens of pictures. "Oh."

Mister Agreste's soul mark had been left by a handshake, just like hers, and the designer had never discovered who his soulmate was. His wife's mark had not matched his.

"He doesn't take kindly to people harassing the marked," Adrien explained. "I mean, more generally, he doesn't think poking one's nose into other people's business is so great. Aaaaand I probably shouldn't be mentioning my father right now."

For people who cared about that sort of thing, Gabriel's story was the epitome of tragedy. In the age of the internet and social media, it was rare for someone to never find their soulmate after being marked. Yet Adrien's father, a world-renowned billionaire who had been on more magazine covers than one could count, had been marked as a teenager and still did not know who his partner was. The tabloids had endless theories about it.

Marinette chuckled.

"It's alright. And don't worry. I'm fine. I just kind of want to hide the thing until I can process it. I had never realized how exposed it made you. I mean, my parents are soulmates and everyone rolls with it, but it's been twenty years. I should have know a _new_ mark would attract tons of attention."

Adrien looked at her gloves.

"I have a question."

"Shoot."

"How soon can I expect to see amazing embroidered gloves to go with the rest of your outfit?"

Marinette grinned. She felt much lighter.

"By Monday."

"I thought so! Just so you know, I'll need pictures. Nathalie is on the hunt for interns."

 

###


	2. Chapter 2

#### What is Soulfinder™, exactly?

Soulfinder™ is a soulmate locator service created to connect soul mark wearers when, for one reason or another, they are not aware of who their partner is.

Missed connections occur on a daily basis. It is easy to miss one's mark appearance: the marking does not come with special sensations, nor sparkles, nor sound. A soul mark can be left by the faintest brush, in hard to see places, in the most hectic of circumstances.

In the old times, people would pin drawings of their marks on the town square. In the last century, they would post descriptions in the classifieds, leave pictures lying around wherever they were most likely to have been marked, or in every convenience store and coffee shop they could think of.

Soulfinder™ simplifies the process by providing a database of unmatched soul marks sorted by location, date of marking, color and keywords.

You are looking for your soulmate?  Use our search wizard. 

No results?  Submit your soul mark! 

 

###

 

"So is she feeling better?" Nino asked Adrien as they watched Marinette leave the school with a bag of costumes that looked heavier than her and a rolling suitcase that looked heavier than the girl _and_ her bag combined.

The two boys had offered to walk her home and to carry everything but she had brushed them off.

"I think so," Adrien replied. "I think she was mostly overwhelmed by the attention."

"Yeaaah. You know, my cousin punched some lady in the face when she was pregnant."

The blond blinked, not quite seeing what that had to do with soul marks.

Nino raised both hands and started to explain.

"She had twins. BIG baby bump. So everyone kept touching her belly, they didn't even ask. Long story short, some woman on the bus did it too and it was the last straw."

"Ouch."

"Yeah. The cops were called and everything. Not that I meant to say that Marinette would have punched someone in the face, that's crazy. But you get the idea."

Adrien nodded.

"Yes. Unwanted attention is not always easy on the nerves."

Nino winced.

"Dude. 'Forgot I was talking to a supermodel."

His friend chuckled, scratching the back of his head.

"It's not as much as a problem as you'd think," he replied. "I always had a bodyguard keeping the fans at bay and when I _do_ get swarmed… It's part of the job, you know? I'm used to it." - Nino's grimace grew worse, so Adrien quickly returned to the original topic. - "I can't imagine how it feels to have the spotlights turned to you with no warning. _Especially_ when you have a life-changing event on your hands. Hand."

Nino groaned. Adrien, who had not meant to turn his sentence into wordplay, gave him an apologetic smile. Nino rolled his eyes and let out a long-suffering sigh. Silence fell. It took a handful of seconds for Nino to speak again.

"It kind of sucks for her," he commented. "Doesn't look like it's anyone she knows well. I mean, if it was someone in our class, they'd have told her. And I checked you and Nathanaël, what with him liking her."

Adrien made a face, confused. Not everything in that sentence pertained to him.

"Er, yeeeeees?"

"And you because you're single and nice. I mean, I wasn't about to go ask 'I love you so much, Mylène' Ivan. Or Kim. I didn't think it would be Kim."

"Whoever it is, she'll find out," the blond stated. "It's not the Middle Ages. There are websites. And sure, there was a lot of people here today, but most were adults, some were already marked… It wouldn't leave that long a list. She'll find out. If she _wants_ to," he finished.

Nino blinked at that.

"I thought everyone did?"

The young model thought of his father, who rolled his eyes every time someone asked him if he planned to seek his soulmate out. It happened more and more often. Adrien's mother had been gone for so long now.

"Would you?" he asked his best friend.

"Dunno. I guess? Never thought about it. I mean, no one in my family was ever marked, it's one of those weird things that happen to others, you know?"

Adrien nodded.

"What about you?" Nino added.

His classmate blushed and looked away.

"Me… I, ah. If there was a girl I liked anywhere near enough to get a mark with, I'd be looking out for it _everytime we touch_. So it wouldn't be a question, really."

Nino narrowed his brow then shook his head. He squeezed Adrien's shoulder.

"You are _so_ -"

They were interrupted by an enthusiastic call coming from the schoolyard.

"Adrien!" Chloé was shouting, hurrying towards them. "Adrien, are you going home?"

She was grinning, excited like a little girl who had found the key to a candy store. Adrien liked her most when she was in that mood: giggly and happy and overenthusiastic. Lately, it only ever happened when she met Ladybug. It was nice to see it happen on a normal day. He was glad.

However, she was pretending Nino was not there, so Adrien straightened his spine and closed up a little.

"Yes," he replied.

"My limo should arrive in a minute," she told him, not caring that Nino was giving her a side-look. "We could ride home together! There's something I _need_ to tell you about."

"Ah, uh… I'm sorry, Chloé, but Nathalie and my bodyguard are waiting for me," he said, pointing at their car. "Another day, okay?"

Her enthusiasm vaporized and turned to disappointment.

"We could take _your_ car, then?" she suggested.

"That… We were supposed to drive Nino home," he told her. It was not strictly true. Actually, it was not true at all. But only one of his friends was being polite to the other and it was not Chloé. "It's a long detour. Maybe we could drive to school together next week?"

Her dejection turned to anger. She clasped a hand around her wrist and squeezed so hard her other hand contracted and trembled.

"It's fine," she spat. "I didn't want to talk to you _that_ much, anyway. I'll drive home with Sabrina."

Adrien did not get a chance to apologize. She turned away and stormed inside the school before he could figure out what to say.

"Ouch," Nino commented.

His best friend sighed.

 

###

 

There was nothing Marinette would have liked more than to transform and run off to patrol, in order to handle her worries about her soulmate with Ladybug's mantle of confidence. And to see Chat Noir. Mostly to see Chat Noir.

If her soulmate was not Adrien… well, only one other boy made sense. One.

She and Chat Noir were _so_ close. They completed each other. They were a team. But they had never touched, had they? She wore gloves. He wore gloves. A soul mark was left by the brush of fingertips only. For all she knew, he was her match and that red mask on her hand had been meant to appear the moment they had met. Why had it never occurred to them to touch each other's skin, just to make sure?

They were Chat Noir and Ladybug, two halfs of a whole.

It would have made so much sense.

She was praying to discover that Chat Noir had donned his civilian clothes and gone to see that play. It was about them, after all. He would have been curious. He was a cat. Not to mention the kittens. Wouldn't he have wanted to see them?

She _wanted_ her soulmate to be Chat. Things would be so much simpler. Well, not 'simpler'. But they would be right.

Running off to patrol would have to wait, unfortunately. Being freshly marked came with its lot of hassles, one of them being concerned parents who needed to be reassured.

Tom and Sabine had not come to see the play. They had an order for a wedding the next day. They would be up all night working, instead of simply waking up hours before the sun to prepare the bakery for the day.

If it had been at all possible, Marinette would have come home, pretended to be tired and ran straight to her room. Unfortunately, three dozen people had left wishes and congratulations on Marinette's facebook wall between her marking and her arrival. Both of her parents had been well aware of her situations when she had walked into the bakery.

At least, they were not pushing her.

She loved her parents.

Much like Adrien, they had greeted her with "Are you okay?" and other comforting words, dancing around the topic of the mark, letting her bring it up if she so wished.

Every now and then, their daughter would hear a 'do you want orange juice?' or 'some tea, sweetheart?'. Boxes of candy and cookies would appear next to her.

Marinette hid her horror and anxiety behind a mask of determination, sitting in the living room instead of retreating upstairs. She did not let them see how shaken she was. They would not have understood. They _could not_ have. The teenager could see how difficult it was for them to come to terms with the mere fact that she had no idea who her soulmate was.

Their marking had been easy. Marinette had heard the story so many times by now. No distracted handshakes for them. No mystery. No question. On a summer day, Tom had put his hand on the shoulder of his dearest friend and classmate and Sabine's mark had appeared. They had noticed it immediately. They had smiled to each other, blushed, smiled some more. Then Tom had held up his hand and Sabine had pressed the tip of ther finger right in the middle of it, where the lines of his palm joined together in a 'M'. Their symbol was subtle and easy to miss, an ear of wheat painted in a golden yellow you could barely see with their skin tones.

It was them. They were meant to be together. How would they understand being horrified by one's marking? Marinette could not tell them about the risks that red domino mask posed to her safety and to her soulmate's. She could not explain how scary it was that a stranger knew her real identity. As for that little part of her that felt _branded_ , it would forever hold its peace. No soulmate had _ever_ described their marking that way.

_It was not supposed to happen like this._

_It never happens like this._

Her mother hazarded a first question two hours after Marinette's return, and she only dared asking it after seeing a soulmate finder app open on her daughter's phone. Marinette had installed _everything._ 'Soulfinder', 'Meet your mark', 'Soul Connection' and a dozen others.

"Found anything?" she said, standing behind the sofa and leaning closer to her daughter.

"Not really," Marinette replied.

It was exactly what she had been hoping for. She did _not_ want that red domino mark out there on the internet where Hawk Moth could find it.

Sabine squeezed her shoulder.

"Give it time. I'm pretty sure if your father had not known about his mark the moment it appeared, he would never have thought those websites existed. He'd have been going around panicking and asking his friends for help."

Marinette smiled a little.

"Sounds like dad."

Her mother tousled her hair.

"It will all be fine," she promised. "Give it time."

"It's not Adrien."

Marinette had no _idea_ why she had blurted that out. Sure, it hurt, but it was hardly her most important problem.

Sabine's hand stilled on her head. Slowly, slowly, it slipped away.

"It… happens," she ended up explaining. "Especially to young people. I know it can be confusing, but it just means that there is someone you might love even more than Adrien out there."

Marinette thought of green eyes and messy blond hair, just for a split second.

"I wish I knew who it was," she murmured.

She had made a list of _every_ touch she remembered from that day, from the morning when she had handed costume after costume to her classmates, the moment she had helped Rose climb a ladder, or pulled Alya back to her feet after she had fallen down, or dragged Chloé to the changing room. And the handshakes. The endless handshakes. Everything was a blur. She did not remember anything.

"Have you felt anything from the mark?" Sabine asked.

"No. Not yet," Marinette said.

She knew transmitted sensations in the mark could develop, but that was the thing: they _developed_. All the online FAQs she had found were very clear on that. The stronger your connection with your soulmate, the more easily you would perceives touches to their mark. Usually, however, the first feelings were faint. More importantly, the soulmates had to be thinking about each other for it to work.

"Maybe try tapping it?" her mother suggested. "At random times? You might get a reaction."

Marinette pulled her glove up without removing it - she wouldn't show the mark to anyone if she could help it - then slipped a finger under the fabric and scratched her mark.

She waited. She held her breath. Nothing happened.

After two minutes of tense silence, she huffed.

"Nothing."

"Then the link might not be strong enough yet. _Or_ your soulmate is sleeping," Sabine pointed out. "It _is_ late."

Marinette did not think she would ever sleep again.

"That's… true," she replied. "You know what? _I_ should go to bed. I'll check every website tomorrow. And my email. I mean, the mark appears when your soulmate sees you for who you really are, and I _sure_ did not see anything. So _he_ knows who I am. He has to. No two ways about it."

Her mother kissed her temple.

"Very good point. Good night, sweetie. Try to get _some_ sleep."

Marinette nodded.

Ten minutes later, she was running from roof to roof towards the Eiffel Tower. It was on Chat Noir's patrol route.

 

###


	3. Chapter 3

Average time elapsed between the marking and the discovery of the soulmate's identity:

  * One hour or less: 55%
  * One day or less: 27%
  * One month or less: 9%
  * One year or less: 5.5%
  * More than one year: 2.5%
  * Soulmate never discovered: 1%



\-- Soul mates statistics based on a study by the ICOPR

###

"You called, my lady?" Chat Noir said as he landed on one of the beams of the Eiffel Tower. "It's a little early for patrol."

He was so busy trying to be suave that he nearly missed the look on her face. Nearly. Her paleness was striking.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, hurrying to her and crouching by her side.

From up close, her distress was blatant. She was looking at her hands, jaw clenched, shoulders hunched. He did not remember ever seeing her like that and it worried him all the more.

"I'm in trouble," she announced, still staring into the distance. She closed her left hand over her left one and squeezed. "I'm in trouble and I don't know what to do."

Adrien's stomach twisted. He leaned closer.

"Can I help?" he asked. "What's going on?"

Ladybug took a deep breath, bracing herself, then she turned to him.

"Chat, do you have a soul mark?"

The question caught him unaware. He had not expected it, not from her. He could have gone forever without hearing it, too, not when it was said with the utmost seriousness, in a voice that ever so slightly quivered. As an idle question, it would have been fine, but there was no mistaking the edge in her tone, the tension in her whole frame.

He wished he could unhear it.

She had a soulmate.

It was not him.

He forced himself to smile and replied in his kindest, softest voice.

"No. No. Not yet." - And now he never would. He could not picture his soulmate being anyone but her. - "Do you?"

She groaned and ran her hands over her face.

"Apparently."

He bit the tip of his tongue so the sharp pain would distract him from the dull, crushing hollowness he felt.

"And you don't know who it is," he guessed.

Strange how this was exactly the conversation he had avoided with Marinette a few hours earlier. There was a lot to be said about that timing. It led to two possible conclusions. One of them, Adrien could not entertain. He had promised Ladybug he would respect her secrets and never try to discover her civilian identity. The other… It would have been 'unexpected'. That was the term. But Marinette would make a good soulmate. She was brave and she was kind and Adrien was fond of her. Silver linings.

"No," Ladybug replied. "But that's not the problem. Well, it's _part_ of the problem, but it's not the _horribly dangerous_ part."

He frowned.

"Horribly dangerous?"

"It's a _mask_ !" his partner exclaimed. "My mark. It's a red domino mask right on my hand! There is someone out there wandering with my MASK on their skin. Worse. There is someone out there who figured out who I am, and I don't know _who_!"

Chat Noir paled. It was bad. It was _awful_ . Not that he thought Hawk Moth was secretly prowling soulmate matching services looking for mask-shaped marks, but people _talked_ about those things. 'Say, do you know anyone with a symbol that looks like a red mask? My neighbor's kid can't find her partner'. 'That girl's mark is the coolest thing!'. 'Who gets a carnival mask, anyway?'. There would be gossip. Well-meaning acquaintances would spread the word.

The young heroes did not know how close Hawk Moth was. They had no idea what social circles he was a part of. For all they knew, he routinely bought his bread from Marinette's parents and had lunch at the Grand Paris.

He sucked his lips in.

"I happen to know someone who got her mark today," he announced, looking up at the moon. "Now, I haven't seen it, but I hear it's red and on her right hand."

 _"What?_ "

"I don't know anything else. I went to see that play about us, at the Françoise Dupont school. The Ladyblog posted an article about it?"

Ladybug stared at him. She was holding her breath.

"Anyway, you know that girl. Marinette Dupain-Cheng. The one who had a date with the Evillustrator, remember? You told me she was cute. I thought you were playing matchmaker."

His partner blinked, then scoffed and started laughing.

"I don't think it's Marinette," she retorted, shaking her head as if the notion was ridiculous. Maybe it was. Maybe it was downright impossible. "She would have told me about it already. She has my email."

" _I_ don't have your email!"

"You have a magical communicator to call me with, Chat Noir. And she needed a way to warn me if the Evillustrator showed up earlier than expected."

"Point." - Adrien sighed. - "So you don't know, and we _need_ to find your soulmate." - That sounded too nervous. He tried to smile and reassure her. - "I'm _sure_ whoever it is will be careful. I mean, a soulmate would never harm you. You would be everything to them. And if they recognized you, they will _know_ how delicate things are. Also, they would have to be smart and resourceful, you know, to fit you. I'm sure they can handle this."

Ladybug bit her lower lip, staring at him with what looked distinctly like wet eyes. She blinked and it was gone.

"Thank you," she whispered.

Chat Noir brushed her hair away from her face.

"So. Getting the word out is… out. No specialized websites, no asking around. I assume you've tried the 'nudging the mark' thing?"

"If I nudge the mark any more, I will carve a hole through my hand," she muttered. "My mother says he's probably sleeping and that I should wait until tomorrow. WHO GETS THEIR SOUL MARK AND GOES TO SLEEP?"

Despite the seriousness of the situation and his broken heart, Adrien chuckled.

She relaxed a little.

Her partner leaned closer.

"Maybe it's too early for the mark to transmit sensations," he told her. "Internet told me it took days."

"Maybe. There's another explanation. Two, actually."

"Two?"

"Explanation one: he has not noticed the mark yet."

Chat Noir nodded.

"Explanation two," Ladybug continued. "He does not have one."

That startled him.

"It's on your hand. Isn't it a handshake mark?"

"It _could_ be," she replied. " _Or_ someone could have grabbed the back of my hand like _this_ " - She closed her left hand on her right, pressing her index against the side of her palm. - "And my fingers would have been turned _away_ from him. And if I did not touch him, then he would not have a mark, would he?"

That scenario was entirely too likely. Maybe that was how you ended up with a black butterfly on the side of your hand but no soulmate.

Adrien did not know how to counter that theory, so he moved to detective work.

"It would be someone who could recognize you," he said. "Maybe someone you rescued. Maybe a big fan, like the Ladyblog girl."

"I've been thinking about it for _hours_ and no one stands out," Ladybug replied. She sighed. "I hate this. It wasn't meant to happen like this. I always thought it would be-"

She slammed her mouth shut, shifting away with a guilty expression.

Chat Noir gave her an inquisitive look and pretended nothing was awkward at all.

A moment went by. She did not finish her sentence. So he did it for her.

"Adrien Agreste?"

He was not blind. He remembered Volpina and the fake Adrien dangling above them. He remembered Ladybug's distress. She tended to put her whole heart into protecting _everyone_ , but there had been something different there. It had not just been her heart she had put into it, but also her whole soul and some of her common sense.

While she _would_ have surrendered her Miraculous to protect innocents, it would have been as a last resort and the danger that fake Adrien had been nowhere near severe enough to warrant such a sacrifice. Not from someone who had caught Chloé mid-flight on her first day on the job.

And she was flustered around 'Adrien', wasn't she? She froze, she blushed, she stammered. He had not imagined that. Even Plagg had remarked on it.

The look on her face confirmed his suspicions. She paled, she blushed, she blanched, she gaped, she turned a little green. She also slipped off their beam and nearly plummeted down to her death. Chat caught her as she fell and pulled her up, arms wrapped around her waist. He helped her sit next to him and did not let go.

"How did you _know_?" she exclaimed.

He grinned.

"I know you."

She grumbled and made a face (or twenty). She huffed. She sulked. All the while, he felt like holding her closer. His heart was melting and spreading warmth from his chest to his toes.

She ended up taking a shaky breath.

"I thought about it over and over again and it could only be two people. A-Adrien, because I, well. You said it."

 _I did not say it_ , Chat Noir thought. He would have preferred to _hear_ it.

Ladybug squared her shoulders, straightening up to give herself a composure.

"Adrien," she repeated, "and you. Because you are my partner. Because you are my friend. Because you are Ladybug's other half, and because you _know_ me."

She had not freed herself from his embrace. He had to fight hard not to pull her closer. The _two_ boys she would have wanted as a soulmate happened to be him.

"You know," she mused, "we never _touched_."

He wrinkled his nose, looking down at the hand he had put on her hip.

She twisted to turn to him and raised a hand.

"Without gloves, I mean. Never."

Adrien stared at her fingers, at the armored fabric that kept her fingertips well away from his skin. A second later, he was pulling on the fabric of his armor and running a clawed finger against his palm. Clearly, Plagg understood his intent, because that part of his suit vanished in a flash of yellow and black, leaving his skin bare up to his forearm.

"Want to try?" he said, extending his hand.

Ladybug gaped, tapping his palm with a gloved finger to confirm that he had willed his armor away. Then she looked at her own hand and tentatively pulled on the tip of her gloved index. The armor vanished in a pink glimmer, leaving her fingertip exposed.

She hesitated.

He breathed in.

It took a minute for her to reach for his hand. Her finger hovered above his palm but she caught herself right before touching him. She jerked her hand away before lowering it once again to press her fingertip to his wrist.

If she marked him, it would be easy for him to conceal it. He would only have to wear a watch.

They waited. They braced themselves. Ladybug lifted her finger.

Adrien's skin was unmarked.

The boy sniffed then he chuckled, faking a levity that had deserted him and was not likely to come back.

"Oh well. We knew it would be touch-and-go."

His lady did not even scoff.

 _The_ lady.

"I suppose I'll have to wait and see," she said with fake nonchalance.

Chat Noir wished his arm was still around her. She was steeling herself, building walls around her anxiety. If he had been touching her, he would have been able to slip through all of that. He could have hugged her. From the outside, there was nothing he could do.

He still reached for her, trying to put a hand on her shoulder, but she jumped to her feet and smiled. Her glove repaired itself.

"Come on," she said. "Patrol is waiting!"

 

###

 

The tree was surrounded with yellow warning signs and yellow tape wrapped around metallic rods that were themselves planted on the lawn of the park. Its trunk was circled by a band of red paint. It was dead, it was dead and rotting and would be cut down soon.

"Cataclysm," Chat Noir said, pressing his palm against the decaying wood.

 

###

 

With a whopping 67% of all soul marks, the hand is the most common (and most logical) location. Out of those, more than half are handshake marks. They are such a common occurrence that fashion wove itself around them. Walk into any clothing store and you will find a variety of garments meant to accommodate your handshake mark, though not always with the same purpose.

On one hand - pun intended - designers have come up with windowed gloves that will openly display your handshake mark. Some stores (such as Mark Of Fashion) even offer customizable arm warmers and gloves, allowing you to pick the colors that best match your symbol.

Other brands have taken a resolutely different approach. Instead of showcasing marks, they offer ways to conceal them. The iconic Gabriel brand has no less than five separate lines of gloves that will allow you to cover up your mark with style. The 'Crimson Rose' line, their luxury brand, offers a selection of stunning embroidered designs most often see on the hands of superstars such as Grace Ouillette and Stella spotlight. Should you need more casual yet beautiful accessories, look up 'Lacewing'. The business wear niche is filled by the 'Morpho' line, while the sportsmen can turn to the 'Dragontail' line. Teenagers are not forgotten: the 'Spring Azure' line - the most popular of all five - offers a wide selection of mark-concealing accessories available for children as young as ten!

\-- Le Monde de la Mode, January 2009

 

###

 

"They are so _pretty_ ," Rose exclaimed when she saw the fingerless gloves Marinette had spent her Sunday sewing and embroidering.

"Yes!" Mylène added, taking a closer look at the floral pattern. "You could _sell_ those. You _should_ sell those. Most of those you see in stores are not that nice!"

Marinette smiled at the compliments, grateful to see her classmates focus on her designs and not on the mark hidden underneath. She had walked into the schoolyard more apprehensive than the first time she had faced an Akuma, which was saying a lot.

Apparently, Instructions had been given. While more of her classmates had hurried to greet her than usual, none had even asked to see her soul mark. The most direct of them were otherwise occupied. Kim was trying to get away from the hold Nino had on his shoulders and from a lengthy explanation on the difference between Flacs and MP3s. Chloé and Lila were arguing in a corner (Alya had grinned and made a v of victory when Marinette had noticed that fight). You could hear echoes from afar.

"By the way," Lila cooed, "can you even lift your arms with all that _bling_?"

"Bling?" Chloé snapped back, raising a wrist covered in enough gold bracelets to win a weightlifting competition. " _Bling?_ This is haute-joaillerie from Gabriel's, I'll let you know. But you couldn't tell, it's not like you could afford that. Oh, and _your_ bracelets are so _cute_! Did your baby brother make them for you?"

Marinette tried to tune them out.

"Thank you so much," she told her friends. "

"You should make more. I'd buy one," Rose exclaimed, even though she had no mark to hide. "I'd buy two. You could make a matching set for me and Juleka, right?"

"Of course! You don't even need to pay me. But doesn't Juleka make her own clothes?"

The blonde panicked.

"No no noooo," she whispered, pulling Marinette away. "You don't get it! It's for a _gift_."

"Oh! Oh, I see. Well then we can go get the materials together. What about we go this afternoon?"

"That would be perfect! Thank you, Marinette!"

"Don't-"

The young designer went silent when Adrien ran into the schoolyard, frantically looking around then breathing in relief. He thought he was late. He seemed pleasantly surprised to have arrived before the bell.

He spotted them.

"Hi, Rose! Hi, Marinette," he greeted them. "How are you?"

Her heart skipped a beat. The next one was painful. She forced herself to smile and stuttered a 'f-fine' while Rose, oblivious, started chattering. Marinette blanked out and only started to pay attention to the conversation when Rose grabbed her hand and showed her glove to Adrien with a deafening 'yes, look!'.

"Wow!" the model exclaimed. "I knew they'd be amazing but that's even better than what I imagined. You _need_ to show them to Nathalie."

"I-I, uh, planned to," Marinette replied, vaguely remembering Adrien had sent her an email to remind her of those internship openings.

She had not given it much thought. She had focused on her gloves and tried hard to think about _nothing at all_. Whenever she closed her eyes, she saw her finger brush against Chat Noir's skin and the unfairness of it all hit her square in the gut.

She had also pinched and poked her mark so often her skin was scratched. Her soulmate had never reacted.

"She'll probably be there to pick me up this afternoon," her crush pointed out. "I'll-"

"Neat gloves," Kim cut in, joining them.

He managed to softly slip next to rose and nearly elbow Adrien out of the way in the same motion. Nino arrived a split second later. The rest of the class followed: Alix first, then Mylène and Ivan, with Juleka and Nathanaël right behind them. Chloé and Lila were gone, though Marinette had not seen them leaving.

"Thanks!" she replied to Kim's compliment, though she knew Kim. She braced for the worst.

"Say, is it a cock?" her classmate blurted out.

She had not braced herself enough.

"Kim!" several of her friends snapped as she gaped.

He blinked.

"What? It would be a good reason to hide it!" he explained, which got him another round of exasperated 'Kim's.

Marinette spluttered.

Alix rolled her eyes.

"He's really into cocks," she stated. "Comes from being a chicken."

Everyone went utterly silent.

Alix smirked at Kim, whose eyes were growing wider and wider as he processed the insult. When he was just about to snap out of it, the skater burst out laughing and ran away.

"COME BACK HERE SO I CAN KICK YOUR ASS!" Kim yelled, chasing her.

She was already halfway up the stairs to their classroom. By the time he got there, she was back into the yard, having dashed to the opposite stairs and jumped down.

"Someday, he _will_ kill her," Nino remarked.

"Nah," Alya retorted. "He'll never be fast enough."

"What if he has more stamina?"

"Have you even _met_ Alix?"

"You're not wrong."

"I'm never wrong."

"Oh? Want me to-"

Adrien slipped between the two of them.

"So how was your Sunday?" he asked, with one hand on Alya's shoulder and the other on Nino's.

They just scowled at each other through him. He sighed and pushed them towards the stairs.

"Come on," he said. "Class is about to start."

The pair sighed but followed him, as did the rest of the class.

Marinette closed the march.

She idly pushed a finger under her glove as she walked and started rubbing her mark again. She was still doing it ten minutes later, after sitting down and taking her tablet out of her bag. Adrien was trying to mitigate the ongoing war between Nino and Alya. It had nothing to do with Kim and Alix, they all knew it. Nino was paying the price for 'improving' his girlfriend's screenplay with the 'Defeat of Hawk Moth' scene.

Marinette was digging her nail into her mark when her phone buzzed. She checked it, frowning, as her parents would not have texted her during class and her friends were too busy to do so.

She had received an anonymous text message. It contained a single word.

"Stop."

 

###

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Turns out writing kids in love is HORRIBLY DIFFICULT. I am fine with emotionally impaired forty-year-old jerks, but teenage sweethearts are apparently not in my writing range.
> 
> Why did I do this to myself?


	4. Chapter 4

"How. Could. It. Happen?" Plagg asked Tikki, his words forced out through clenched teeth. "I mean it. HOW? They have true love. She broke Nooroo's mind control with a true love's kiss!"

He was growling, his tail was swatting the air and he was pretty sure dark magic was oozing out of him. He did not care. He was enraged.

As much as he moaned about the Guardians' habit to pick little humans who were 'perfect for each other' and the romantic shenanigans that ensued, that was only for the sake of his own reputation. Maybe the lovelorn looks and the fawning and the _kissing_ (ugh, the kissing) made him puke a little in his mouth. That did not matter.

Chat Noir and Ladybug belonged together.

Period.

No gods but Tikki and him had any say in the matter and he did not appreciate when some errant miracle came crashing in and destroyed his protégés.

"The marking rules are terribly specific," his sister murmured, staring at the floor of the library. "I knew the 'perfect understanding' condition was not met. There was still too much posturing between them. Adrien does not know of her vulnerability and she has not noticed his scars yet. I thought it was only a matter of time before _that_ problem solved itself. Never in a million years would have I expected someone else to trigger the marking."

Plagg huffed.

"Who could it even _be_?" he muttered. "Because nobody in that merry band of idiots they call their friends strikes me as perceptive enough to recognize Ladybug."

"It could be Alya," Tikki pointed out, trying to stay both comforting and hopeful. "She is Marinette's closest friend."

Her brother glowered at her.

"Alya would have kept her mouth shut exactly zero seconds."

That got Tikki to look away, dejected.

"Then I don't know. Nino would be transparent about it. That Rose girl is Juleka's soulmate. It might be one of the other children, but I have not observed them enough to read them. Have you?"

Plagg gave her a side-look. When had he ever cared about humans other than his heroes?

Tikki shook her head.

"I have nothing to work with. I was not there when the mark appeared, I have no idea who she interacted with, let alone who touched her. And I am _worried_ , Plagg. As concerned as I am about the children's broken hearts, I find it more troubling that her soulmate has not reached out. She was _recognized_ \- by a stranger, at that - and it puts her at risk. It puts her _soulmate_ at risk. One word of this to the wrong person and Hawk Moth could become aware of the situation."

Plagg's tail twitched. That topic was best left alone.

If would still be time to worry if Gabriel started prompting Adrien about the cookie girl. Not that he could tell Tikki that.

"No soulmate of that girl is going to run around bragging about that mark," he muttered. "They're bound to have _some_ sense. Not necessarily _much_ , but they would know how to keep a secret."

The red Kwami sighed again. Plagg resumed his pacing. If he flew around enough, maybe his nerves would seep right out of him.

"I wish I could rip that mark off the girl's hand," he grumbled. "It doesn't belong there."

His sister flew up to a window and looked outside.

"Self-sustaining miracles always go awry," she commented. "No matter how benevolent the intentions behind them."

Plagg scoffed.

Tikki. Ever the diplomat.

The soulmate miracle had sent Nooroo flying into a rage. _Nooroo,_ who was referred to as a 'kind soul' by about everyone, and as a 'total pushover' by Plagg himself. The butterfly had been held prisoner more times than his brother could count (Literally. Who needed algebra to handle cheese? You either had 'none' or 'not enough' of it). Yet, when he talked about the absolute lunatics who had abused his powers, it was always with quiet sadness.

The soulmates thing, however…

Plagg still remembered returning to Lutetia on a sunny autumn day, millennia earlier, with his brand new holder, the Ladybug of the time and the dazzled teenage girl Nooroo had been given to. The three Kwami had spent nearly two centuries in their boxes, only to be sent against a rampaging hydra the moment their Miraculous had been given to new heroes. That had not given them much time to take in the sights so they had welcomed their return to the city.

Tikki had gaped at the improved architecture, Plagg had ignored it to find himself food and Nooroo…

"What are those markings?" he had asked his new hero, pointing at random humans with an expression close to horror.

"Those?" the girl had replied. "Those are lovers marks! They tell you who you should marry."

It was rare for Nooroo to let his aura wander. Yet it had twisted and spread so fast that both of his siblings had whirled to him. Nooroo's mistress had not noticed the wave of magic. She had remained oblivious to the eerie calmness on his face.

"Do they," he had said.

"Yes!" his human had replied. "Not everyone has them, of course. But maybe one person in a hundred?"

"How do they appear," the pink Kwami had asked, still without the slightest intonation.

"Well, it's a touching thing. If you meet the love of your life _and_ manage to see exactly why is the right person for you, then your fingers will leave a symbol on their skin."

Tikki had emerged from under her Ladybug's cloak, concerned. Even Plagg had returned to his own master.

"I see," Nooroo had told his holder.

And he had said nothing more that afternoon. His magic had pulsed around him. His butterflies had been unusually quiet, only moving in short bursts not to be distanced as the pink Kwami crossed Lutetia with their group. Nooroo had observed the humans in silence. Plagg had observed _him_ , bemused. He had not known the butterfly could get angry.

His brother had only shared his thoughts late at night, away from their respective masters.

"Those markings are _abominations_ ," he had spat.

Tikki, up to that point, had not known what to think about the lovers marks. Plagg had flat out not cared.

"How so?" the black cat had asked, because he was curious.

The tattoos did not interest him. A Nooroo giving more than a lukewarm reaction to _anything_ was new, however.

"'Lovers marks' are what happens when overzealous deities fail to contain their hubris," the pink Kwami had explained. "Whoever came up with that Miracle does not have the slightest notion of what love is. They have no understanding of human nature whatsoever."

He did. Not only had he observed human emotions for centuries, he could _feel_ them as his own.

"Nooroo is right," Tikki had chimed in. "That miracle _appears_ to be beneficial, but it is misguided at best. Even if it were perfectly accurate - _especially_ if it were - human emotions do not belong on their skins."

"Misguided at best," Nooroo had repeated, his voice cold as ice, his face an expressionless mask. " _Misguided._ Us gods are meant to guide people, not to lure them into cages. I _hope_ it is not accurate, so the tales of blissful love won't lend credence to it. The more people have faith in what those markings tell them, the less the voices against them will be heard. And for ten, twenty humans happily matched, one will suffer in silence. For every hundred, one will rail against the miracle's choice so hard they would rather carve their skin away than to accept the lover forced on them. And those marks will bring judgment with them. They will bring strife. They will bring death."

Plagg's hackles raised at the memory. He joined his sister at the window.

"I won't let Adrien accept losing her. Not without a fight. Just so you know."

 

###

 

Soulmate rejection is much debated topic among researchers (mostly in the domains of psychology and magical science), yet is only discussed in hushed whispers among the general population. 'It never happens', most people would say. 'It is so very sad', others comment while affectionately stroking the much cherished marks on their own skins. 'Whoever gets rejected has to deserve it', the less charitable affirm.

It does happen, probably in much larger numbers than what statistics would lead us to believe. Rejection breeds shame and shame breeds secrets. The unmatched marks end up concealed, sometimes removed surgically. Most of the single soulmates pretend they were never marked to begin with. Very few of them flaunt their status. Yet, some do.

Groups such as "Off with the mark" clamor for the soul marks to be ignored. Year after year, they gather testimonies of poor matches, ruined families, as well as tales of bullying and discrimination.

"Why should we let some glorified tattoos ruin our lives?" their website asks.

\-- Science-Mag, January 2014

 

###

 

Marinette stared at her phone, unblinking.

'Stop.'

Googling the sender's number brought her to 'textanonymizer.co.fr'. She tried to convince herself that it was _not_ exactly what she thought it was, then she felt three firm taps on her soul mark, as if a finger had been touching her, even though she was wearing her gloves. The sensation even left the ghost of warmth as it faded.

She waited. That could not be all, could it? That stranger was bound to send another message. Something clearer. Something _signed_.

Minutes went by. Marinette ignored Alya and Nino's bickering. She barely paid attention to Chloé's noisy entrance, even if the whole class was privy to her conversation with her father, that went on long after the spoiled brat had sat down at her desk, next to Sabrina's empty seat. "No, Dad, I didn't want the _vermillion_ one. I wanted the _amaranth_ one. Send it back. Get me the _good_ version".

Miss Bustier arrived. Marinette still did not look up.

It was only when Alya pushed her phone out of sight and whispered a 'are you alright?' that she snapped out of her trance.

"Yes," she murmured back. "Yes".

Adrien turned to check on her, frowning in concern, but their teacher called him out immediately.

"Adrien!" she said. "Why don't you remind us of what chapter of the Turn of the Screw we were at?"

As always happened when a teacher tried to call him out on his distraction, he gave a perfect answer and followed up with a detailed summary of the chapter in question. He could not turn to Marinette to question her again, however. Even Alya had to remain silent: Miss Bustier kept looking their way to make sure they would not chit-chat.

Marinette put her phone in her pocket and pretended to listen to the book analysis. After that, she swiped from ebook page to ebook page on her tablet without reading a single word.

Half an hour went by. Her phone did not buzz.

Alya typed a 'are you okay?' on her own tablet's screen.

Marinette replied with a nod then tapped her mark three times, firmly.

She got no answer. She checked her phone under the table to make sure she had not missed a notification and that it was not set to silent instead of vibrate. She checked it ten more times before the bell rang. At that point, Alya all but dragged her out.

"What's wrong?" the blogger asked as soon as they walked out the door.

"I got a text," Marinette murmured.

"Text? _Bad_ text? Mean text?"

Her friend merely got her phone out and showed her the 'stop'. Alya scowled, clenching her teeth.

"Is that from-"

She clasped her mouth shut when Adrien arrived. He was breathless, having raced to catch up with them. Nino was not far behind.

"Is something wrong, Marinette?" the blond asked, so clearly worried for her that her heart skipped a beat.

Alya frowned and turned to her, ever so slightly stepping between her and Adrien to cut the conversation short if Marinette wanted it so. No one would be forced to talk under her watch. Marinette breathed in. She put a hand on the other girl's shoulder and gave her a faint smile.

"It's okay," she said, before turning to Adrien. "My soulmate sent me a message. An anonymous message. It was not… very inviting."

The boy paled.

"W-what? Really?"

"It's just asking me not to touch my mark, I think. I meant, it just says 'stop' but… I felt something. I mean, the mark, he was touching his." - She tapped her gloves with the tip of a finger. - "Like this."

 _And it was a perfectly clear sensation_ , she thought. _It did not start out faint. I bet he could feel me trying for hours. He was just ignoring it._

Adrien's lips moved but no sound came out. He peeked at Nino, who shook his head.

Alya crossed her arms.

"Whoever it is will will get a piece of my mind as soon as I track them down," she muttered. "That's no way to treat someone, let alone your soulmate."

Nino shifted and fidgeted, uneasy.

"Yeah. I never heard of anyone who is not _all over_ their new match. That's just… Maybe they're busy?"

"Maybe," Marinette said.

She felt eyes on her and caught Chloé observing them from a few feet away. Marinette tensed and closed ranks with her friends, trying to form a tighter group. She lowered her voice not to be eavesdropped on.

"It doesn't matter," she whispered. Chloé walked away after a long last look. "I'll figure it out. Even if I have to check every single person that came to watch the play."

She did not want to. That one-word message had made it clear that her soulmate did not want to get in touch. She was not about to weep and beg. That being said, 'wanting' and 'having to' were vastly different concepts. She couldn't let someone wander around with her secret and her mask on their skin. It was too dangerous.

"We'll help," Adrien promised. "If you want us to, that is."

She shook her head.

"No, it's fine. I'll manage on my own. I don't want this to turn into a big deal."

The less attention on that mark, the better.

"Alright," Alya said. "We'll figure it out anyway. I mean, people _know_ someone was marked Saturday. If a second person suddenly starts wearing gloves, it will be a dead giveaway. Someone will hear about it and probably come straight to Marinette."

Adrien frowned. He seemed to disagree but kept his opinion to himself.

Nino sighed.

"It's a red mark, right?"

"Yes," Marinette confirmed, putting her hand over the symbol even if she knew no one could see it through her gloves.

"Okay, then-"

Marinette's phone buzzed.

They all froze.

She got the device out of her pocket and turned it on, checking the notifications. She had received an email from an address she did not know, but that was recognizable enough: 'crimson.8@freemail.co.fr ''. The subject was 'Sorry'.

Marinette took a step away and hid the screen from her friends, though they had not tried to peek at it.

"It's him," she explained.

Then she tapped the notification and waited for the mail to open. It was a few lines long, but one look was enough to see it was not signed.

'Sorry about earlier. I wasbusy.

I'm not stalking you or anything. I got your phone ande mail from your flyers.'

Marinette had made some to advertise her services as a designer and seamstress. She had brought some for the play, seeing how she had helped with the costumes. Her parents also had a pile of them on a counter in the bakery.

She kept reading.

'Please dont touch the mark,' the email said. 'I don't want too meet you. There's already someone I like. This is all wrong. I'm sorry.'

Marinette went still. She forgot to breathe. She started reading the email again, gasping a few seconds later, when her lungs protested. After a sigh and a wince, she scanned the two last lines again.

She chuckled without humor.

At least she and her soulmate had something in common.

 

###


	5. Chapter 5

Q: I just got my soul mark and I don't want it! What can I do?

A: First of all, give it time! While first reactions to one's marking are overwhelmingly positive, it is not unheard of for new soulmates to be shocked or even horrified. Marks do not always appear in the most convenient circumstances, between people who expect it or even wished to get one.

Young teenagers might not be prepared for such a life-changing revelation. Married people might discover their soulmate is not, in fact, their husband or wife. There might be a large age gap between two soulmates. They might find themselves in professional situations where a budding relationship would be frowned upon. Every so often, they simply do not _like_ each other.

We recommend letting the initial shock pass before attempting to discuss such issues with your soulmate. There might be hurdles to jump over - sometimes large ones - but soulmates who take the decision of upturning their lives to follow destiny are overall very happy with that choice.

\-- The ultimate soulmate FAQ, amessoeurs.co.fr

 

###

 

Adrien held his breath when Marinette announced the message she had just received was from her soulmate. So did Alya. So did Nino. They were concerned, all of them. Something was wrong.

The situation had been off from the moment Marinette had been marked, really.

He knew she had come up with scenarios to explain why her soulmate was not reaching out. He knew her friends had too, because that was what anyone would have done in such circumstances: tried to reassure her. None of those theories had held water, however.

Her mark looked too much like a handshake mark to be one-sided. Yes, it was possible that her hand had been grabbed in such a way her fingers had not touched her soulmate, but when you heard hoofbeats, you thought of horses, not unicorns.

The notion that her soulmate had no idea of who she was had more holes in it than the Emmental Plagg piled on his Camembert when he felt like introducing some variety in his diet. Markings required a conscious realization of one's partner true nature, from one of the soulmates. Marinette was too befuddled to have met that condition. Her soulmate knew full well who they were linked to.

They had not reached out because they did not want to.

Adrien was not surprised to see Marinette pale and freeze as she read the message she had received. It could not be good news, not when the sender was set on rejecting her. She looked about to pass out. She sighed, she grimaced. She chuckled. Her voice sounded like it came from the grave.

"What's going on?" Alya asked, clearly stopping herself from grabbing the phone and checking the message. "Are you okay?"

Marinette sucked her lips in then grabbed her best friend's arm, pulling her close to her. Then she showed her her screen.

A handful of seconds went by.

"WHAT?" the blogger shouted. " _What?_ Who the HELL do they think they are? That's just-"

"It's okay. It's okay!" Marinette said, giving the other girl a tight smile that twitched and grew into a bitter grin. "It's fiiiiine, actually. I didn't want this! I. Didn't. Want. This."

When Alya failed to answer, the young designer took a step away, frowning.

"What? That's true!"

"Y-yes, but _that's_ still not a way to treat someone! He didn't even tell you face to face!"

Adrien and Nino awkwardly looked at each other. Nino cleared his throat. They didn't dare to ask.

Marinette pushed her phone into her pocket, huffing. She turned to the two boys.

"Problem solved," she snapped. "My soulmate has a girlfriend and does not want to meet me. Which suits me fine. Who needs a soulmate, anyway?"

Whatever reaction she had expected to get, their stunned disbelief was not it. She rolled her eyes.

" _Really_ ," she insisted. "Now are we going chemistry or what?"

A memory flashed back in Adrien's mind, one of the recording of an interview of his father regarding his 'Spring Azure' line of accessories. Adrien had been much younger and had watched it all from a corner of the studio, with his mother by his side. He had not been listening that carefully. His father gave a lot of interviews. Still, one of the questions had gotten his attention.

"- confusion, so could you tell us _why_ you are not looking for your soulmate?" the interviewer had asked.

"Here we go again," Adrien's mother had whispered to herself, barely loudly enough for her son to hear her words.

His father had given the journalist an annoyed eye-roll, taken a deep breath, and stood.

"If this interview is to turn into questioning about my personal life, I see no point continuing it," he had commented, walking away from the set to join his wife.

He had not even been angry, just mildly annoyed. Provided they respected his boundaries, his interactions with the press were always pleasant enough. That was business. He could be charming, he could be nice, but he always made his expectations clear. If you did not follow the plan, Gabriel just cut things short. If you pushed the envelope… well, you got Jackady.

You could easily tell when he was angry and when he was enforcing his rules, which was what had happened when that journalist had asked about his soulmate. To Gabriel, that question had been a mere annoyance, words he had heard too often. He had not cared at all.

He was the living proof that some people did not want a soulmate.

Marinette was no Gabriel, however. She was not heartless, she was not detached, she was not cold. She was just a teenage girl in a confusing situation. Even if she had not wanted her mark, even if she had not wanted to meet her soulmate, rejection was rejection.

It hurt.

Adrien and their friends followed her to the chemistry class then proceeded to peek at her for the entire lesson. Marinette had never focused so hard on chemical reactions before. Her jaw remained clenched for the entire lesson and her frown discouraged them from talking to her at all.

Meanwhile, Adrien was thinking hard about the situation.

As much as he had tried to discard the notion that Marinette could be Ladybug, the theory that she could be Ladybug's _soulmate_ had gone up in flames. Those new interactions with that stranger were nothing like the superheroine. She would have talked to Marinette in person, not hidden behind a phone.

If Marinette _was_ Ladybug, then nothing made sense. She was not a coward. Her soulmate couldn't be one. So why would they avoid facing the issue head-on? Having a girlfriend was not enough of a reason to refuse to meet Marinette. Was that just an excuse? Was it even true, or was the soulmate trying to cover a deeper problem?

Were they afraid to show themselves _because_ they had recognized Marinette as Ladybug?

The more Adrien thought about it, the more questions he had.

As he knew he would not get answers, he tried to focus on what could be done to comfort Marinette. _Marinette_. Adrien tried to push his suspicions away, refusing to ponder on her secret identity or lack thereof. It could be a theory among others to figure out what was going on with her soulmate, but he was not going to investigate it. She would be 'Marinette' until Ladybug told him otherwise.

Comfort.

What could he say? Did she even _want_ to discuss the issue? If she did, it most likely would be with Alya, wouldn't it? There was nothing he could do.

He felt like having parents who had gotten married in spite of mismatched marks should have imparted him with some kind of wisdom. Unfortunately, Gabriel and Alice had never discussed their soulmates with him. He did not know how they had initially handled their rejections (or why they had rejected their mates). And now, Alice was not there to share her opinion and Gabriel… could as well not have been there.

Adrien stared at the test tube he was supposed to observe for the rest of the lesson, barely listening to their teacher.

All of his thinking ended up to have been for nothing, because Marinette jumped out of her seat as soon as the bell rang.

"Sorry, Alya," she exclaimed, shoving her things into her bag. "I told mom I'd have lunch at home today. See you this afternoon."

She all but ran out of the classroom, despite her best friend's frantic "Marinette wait!".

"Someone doesn't want to talk," Nino commented after the young designer's escape.

Alya sighed.

"I guess not. I'll see how she is feeling later today. Maybe talking to her mom will help."

"Maybe. Her mom is nice," her boyfriend mused. He looked around to check that their classmates had left. They had but he still continued in hushed tones. "Say, how bad was that message? Is the guy a total ass?"

"He sure as hell is not _nice_ ," the blogger ranted. "You don't reject your soulmate through a text message just saying 'sorry there's someone else I like'. You don't even dump your two-week girlfriend like that!'

Adrien scowled.

"Someone else I like?" he repeated.

"Yes? Marinette told you, didn't she?"

"Uh, no," Nino intervened. "She said the dude had a girlfriend. Not the same thing."

Alya's eyes went wide.

"How did Marinette not pick up on that? How did _I_ not pick up on that? I'll point it out to her."

Nino nodded. Adrien mulled over that 'someone else I like' some more, but did not share the rest of his conclusions. If the message had only contained those exact words, Marinette's soulmate had made sure not to give the slightest hint of who they were. It wasn't a relationship status. You couldn't rule out people because they were already dating. Feelings were easily hidden.

"I sure hope that guy is just having a small freak out and will get over it," Nino muttered. "Pulling this crap is just sucky. Marinette doesn't deserve that."

"I sure hope he gets over himself and apologizes," Alya mumbled. "Anyway there's not much we can do now."

"We could try to find him," Nino suggested.

 _We could try to find 'them'_ , Adrien mentally amended.

"Not if Marinette doesn't want us to," their friend replied, grabbing her bag. "Let's go. I don't know about you but I'm hungry."

At that point, Adrien realized all of his things were still spread over his desk. Alya and Nino had already packed everything away and were ready to go.

"I'll catch up with you," he told them, opening his messenger bag and collecting his books and pens . "Just go ahead!"

After are 'we can wait' and a 'are you sure?', his friends left. Adrien waited for them to be gone.

"Plagg?" he called. "Are you around?"

He could have used his kwami's opinion here. Unfortunately, Plagg was nowhere to be seen. Probably on the hunt for cheese, seeing how it was lunch break and Adrien had not fed him during recess.

Sighing, the boy closed his bag and walked out of the classroom. He was barely out the door when Nathanaël popped out of nowhere and tapped his shoulder.

Adrien squeaked like a distressed fairy-tale princess.

He had to take a deep breath before he could talk.

"Sorry," he told the redhead. "Didn't expect to see you here."

"S-sorry," Nathanaël stuttered. "I didn't mean to surprise you. I-I just wanted to ask. Is Marinette okay? She looked very pale."

"Oh. I. Uh. She'll be okay. I mean I think she is okay. I. Uh. I'll ask her."

His classmate frowned and nodded.

"Okay. I was just worried. I guess I'll ask her later," he said, not meeting Adrien's eyes. "Thanks."

"Er. No problem… Anything else?"

Nathanaël shook his head.

"N-no, that's all. See you in class," he muttered, shrinking away as he spoke.

Adrien blinked and watched him go, then hurried to the staircase to try to find Nino and Alya.

 

###

 

Q: How do I make the shared sensations in my mark _stop?_

A: Shared sensations are a common side-effect of soul marks. They do not develop for every couple, but the vast majority of soulmates experience them. In some circumstances, the sensations in the skin over and around a soul mark are felt by both soulmates.

It can prove unpleasant or aggravating depending on the kind of sensations being transmitted. Kisses and caresses are usually welcome (and 'blowing someone a kiss' takes a whole new meaning if you have a soulmate). Slight brushes and taps are easily ignored. Unfortunately, the same can't be said of every sensation. Wounds come to mind but also - as silly as it sounds - pesky inconveniences such as mosquito bites.

However, the sensations only occur when soulmates are thinking about each other. The trick to make them stop is very simple: distract yourself!

 

###

 

Marinette was walking into the bakery when her phone buzzed. She ignored it, figuring that Alya wanted to check on her. She knew playing possum was not nice, but she couldn't find it in herself to talk right now.

She felt…

She had no idea what she felt.

She had never wanted a soulmate she did not know and did not already love, so why was she so hurt by a rejection from a stranger? Well, maybe not a _stranger_ , but someone she had never asked to be linked to. Someone she did not _want_ to be linked to, did not want to meet, did not want to like. There was no logical reason to be upset, yet she felt inadequate and unwanted.

The first thing she did once inside was to go make herself a sandwich. The second was to run to her bedroom with it, so no one would ask her why she was home in the middle of the day when she had told her parents she would be eating out with Alya. The third thing she did was open her purse to release Tikki.

The kwami flew up and hovered next to her, looking concerned.

Marinette sighed.

"Have you seen it happen before?" she asked. "Soulmates wanting nothing to do with each other?"

Tikki's face scrunched up for a second, then her expression turned to tiredness.

"Not often," she replied. "And you have to understand that I do not interact with humans much, outside of Ladybug and her teammates. I have limited knowledge on the soul marks and the way they impacted people's lives. But I saw them be poorly received. It happens."

" _Why?_ Aren't soul marks supposed to connect you to someone who will _love_ you?"

The kwami sucked her lips in, thinking about her answer.

"It is a very efficient miracle," she ended up saying.

Marinette frowned.

"'Miracle'?" she repeated. "'Very efficient'?"

Tikki landed on her desk, next to the untouched sandwich.

"I wish Nooroo was here," she sighed. "He would explain it better. 'Miracle' is an old way to refer to deities using their magic to alter the world around them. You have your own, your mending spell. Another well known one is _platypuses_."

Marinette raised her eyebrows.

_Platypuses._

"Platypuses."

"Wayzz is adamant they were created by magic. It does feel that way. That being said, the only other godly opinion I got on them was Vixx's - she is another of the Miraculous kwamis - and all she had to say was that they did not taste very good."

Marinette blinked then remembered the original topic they had been discussing.

"What did you mean by 'efficient'?"

"It's… As far as we can tell - we as in Nooroo, and Wayyz, and I, mostly - that miracle will _always_ link two people who fit each other like a glove. The problem being that not everyone likes to wear gloves."

"People like me?"

Tikki nodded.

"Strong-willed people struggle with the concept. Those who are confident in their own choices. Those who don't take direction well, too. They cannot accept their soul mark because it is not in their _nature_. They only ever welcome it when it links them to someone they had already chosen."

"But when it doesn't, they refuse it," Marinette completed.

Her kwami nodded.

"Yes. I have seen rejection happen for a variety of other reasons… _circumstances_ ," she corrected. "Married people. People from different social universes, afraid of backlash. But here… I think it is a matter of mindset. You did not want this and someone who fits you would be equally averse to the idea."

"I… see," Marinette murmured.

She still felt terrible, but those explanations made sense.

"I'll still have to find him," she pointed out after a deep breath. "He could be in danger. He has to know he can't show his mark."

Tikki nodded.

"The sooner, the better."

The teenager took her phone out. She could try emailing 'crimson.8' back. With some luck, he had not created that email to throw it away.

She blanched when her screen lit up. She had exactly one notification and it was not a message from Alya like she had thought. Her soulmate had emailed her again.

She gave the screen a swipe and waited for the message to open (it took at least a decade). It was a bit longer than the one she had received during recess, though not by much.

'Hello again.

I reread that othre email and it sounds much colder then I wanted it to. I didn't mean to be harsh.

When I said I didn't want to meet, that's not because I think there's something wrong with you. It's nothing like that! I know you are a good person. You know I know. Its drawn on our skins.

I'm just afraid the mark will mess with our heads and make us feel things we would not *normally* feel. I don't want it to change the way I think and I don't know if it can but 'better safe then sorry', right? The less we know about each other, the less this can change who we are. You don't want too change, do you? I always knew what I wanted and why I wanted it and *how*, and I think youre the same.

Do you get it?

This doesn't feel like it should.

I hope you understand.'

Marinette stared at her screen, wide-eyed. The mail pretty much confirmed Tikki's theory, so her chosen showed her the phone to let her read.

"I thought so," the goddess mused.

Her chosen nodded.

This was much easier to handle. _This_ , she could understand. _This_ was a good reason not to meet, not to talk, not to interact at all. It was logical. It made sense. It had nothing to do with her shortcomings.

She hit reply and started typing.

'This doesn't feel like it should at all,' she typed. 'It feels like being branded.'

"He still knows who you are, Marinette," Tikki remarked. "He just said so."

"I'll get to it if he answers."

"Why not n-"

Marinette's phone buzzed. Crimson8 had replied already, with a simple '*YES*'.

She took a deep breath. They had come to _some_ kind of understanding, though not the one you'd expect from brand new soulmates.

Now came the hard part.

"Alright, here we go," she murmured.

'We still need to talk. You HAVE to hide your mark. It's IMPORTANT. I think you know why,' she wrote.

She sent the email. She breathed out. Then she started waiting.

Tikki landed on her shoulder and stared at the phone. Marinette spun on her chair, rolled from a side of her bedroom to the other, spun some more. She forced herself to eat her sandwich, which would not go down. Her mouth was too dry and her throat too clenched. She spun _again_. She pressed her forehead to her desk.

 _Finally_ , her phone vibrated.

She nearly dropped it in her hurry to read the new email.

'Dont worry. My mark is hard too see where it is, so no one has Spotted it. I'll cover it. I'm not telling anyone about this. Your secret is safe with me.'

Marinette's stomach twisted at the capitalized 'Spotted', but she still breathed a sigh of relief after reading the whole message.

"Do you think that will be enough, Tikki?"

"No. But it's a start. At least, your soulmate is listening to you, now. We might convince him to take steps to protect himself. And you."

 

###

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plot. Plot. Plot dropped on me like a pile of rocks.


End file.
